


I'm 'gon Ride

by HiAjay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Awkward Sexual Situations, BAMF Stiles, Creeper Peter, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Derek's POV, F/M, Foreplay, Issac is a dick, Lapdance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2285778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a small soft look on her face that gives nothing way, but that’s when Derek smells it. And it’s like that that Derek wants to have his hands all over her thin fragile body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm 'gon Ride

It had been a long, tiring night. It’s almost dawn, with the purple night sky turning a faded blue and orange. Derek just wants to go home and sleep for the next sixty years. Werewolves don’t age the same way that humans do, so Derek can sleep for the next sixty years and not worry about a thing. Not that he would anyway, growing old gracefully would be great at this point.

 

 

Isaac was being a little shit during training and Derek has no idea why, something was off but he couldn’t put his finger on it and it frustrated him to no end. To make things worse so were Scott and Peter, and for the damn cherry on top, Stiles was missing all day. After dating for almost two years you’d think Derek would be used to her antics, but he isn’t and her being away for the whole day made him anxious and put his wolf in a state of unease.

 

 

So here he is at his loft door; he stops before he slides the large metal door open. There’s a thick earthy smell with orange citrus surrounding the loft, and Derek knows that scent. _Stiles is or was here_. Derek opens his door expecting to see her there on his couch, but what he sees surprises him.

 

 

 

His couch has been moved and nothing but a single metal chair sits in the center of the room. Derek is instantly on guard, his body tenses up and he notices a white note card on the seat as he walks in carefully. The clear scent of citrus has Derek’s nerves relaxing as he has the note in his hands.

 

 

_Sit._

 

 

It was clear and written in Stiles’ beautiful cursive. Derek’s stomach bottoms out and his fingers curl around the note card. Derek searches the room but its dark and he can’t really see anything. He can tell Stiles is in loft, he just can’t place where. So Derek does as told, he sits down on the cool metal chair.

 

 

He doesn’t say anything, simply waits. If this is all Stiles’ doing he doesn’t want to rush her or make her feel like all her effort is going unnoticed, because it sure isn’t. It’s in his quiet watching and searching that Derek notices the dark crimson petals on the ground leading off towards the spiral stair case. Derek’s heart gives a tight thump in his chest while his toes curl a little in his shoes.

 

 

Slowly Derek is starting to realize what’s happening here. He doesn’t know exactly what, but if his growling and his rumbling is anything to go by, He’ll guess Stiles is going to be all over this.

 

 

It’s a second after Derek’s noticed the petals that some soft music starts playing, Derek’s attention is solely on the stair case, because if what’s up there is anything like what he hopes is up there, he won’t need to look away. What he sees a minute later is not what he was expecting. It is Stiles, yes. But its Stiles in black stilettos and short black shorts, her shirt is a loose flowy thing that looks more like a skirt and with ever step she takes Derek is getting peaks at the soft, pale, mole dotted skin underneath.

 

 

Her hair is the way Derek’s loved seeing it, sleep mused and free; she’s making her way down the steps with more grace then Derek’s used to seeing. She has gotten better at keeping still on her feet, but it still amazes Derek. Derek watches her star struck as she gets down to him and circles him like prey.

 

 

There’s a small soft look on her face that gives nothing way, but that’s when Derek smells it. And it’s like that that Derek wants to have his hands all over her thin fragile body.

 

 

The smell of sweet summer fruit and lust gives her away. Derek wants to reach out and touch, but he was told to sit, and sit means _stay._ So Derek rumbles, the music continues and Stiles stands in front of him, she smiles down at him. It’s a flurry of motion when she spins far enough away that Derek almost fears that she’d fall. When she stops, there’s a blush fading on her cheek and Derek’s wolf is clawing at him to _Claim_.

 

 

Stiles must see it in his eyes because she grins and shakes her head like a child, which _no fair_. She sways her hips a little unsure, and Derek’s about to lose his goddamn mind. He momentarily realizes that dark jeans are not something that he wants to wear for this. Stiles pulls him back from his thoughts when her hands touch his knees and slide up his thighs, nice and teasingly slow. Derek notices she’s crouching and that _does things_ to Derek. _God_ does that look sexy.

 

 

Stiles glances up to meet Derek’s eyes and Derek hopes there’s nothing but approval and lust in his eyes for her. And there must be because Stiles’ own eyes are blown shot and her lips are slightly parted.

 

 

She snakes her hands along with her body further up and toward Derek. At this point Derek knows Stiles knows he’s both excited and itching to touch. All with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his white knuckled grip on his chair. And it’s like fire in his blood when Stiles’ right hand slides across his erection purposefully, Derek let’s out an involuntary moan and his head falls back just a little. His eyes closing at the touch, it’s a sweet passing and Derek’s already falling apart at the seams.

 

 

Stiles pushes herself up on her feet, pushing her supple, round ass out first and following it with a sweet curve of her body. It was Stiles waist and torso that Derek loved to most of her body. Of course he loved her in general, but what was physically attracting to him was the way her hips and thighs were shapely and her torso was soft but firm.

 

 

Stiles stands completely, leaving Derek pinning for her hands back on his body. She looks down with a small smirk and Derek takes a deep breath. Stiles runs her hands slowly through her hair as her hips move provocatively, swaying right and left, totally sure and proudly flaunting. Derek soon realizes that the music playing is a loop of a song, or the song is on loop. He doesn’t catch the words because _hello, Stiles_.

 

 

Stiles works her way on his lap just shy of touch him when finally she lowers herself and presses gently against Derek’s member. And _god_ does Derek want to touch her, _press her_ to the next closes surface and kiss her senseless. Stiles’ hips do this thing that’s new and Derek’s body and wolf are both flustered. Her hips, in an easy, slow motion is working at Derek’s lap. _God Damn._

 

Derek’s know stupid, he knows a lap dance when he sees one. He just can’t wrap his brain around the fact that _Stiles_ is giving him a lap dance. _Fuck,_ Derek thinks. He meets Stiles’ eyes just as her hands slide up his chest and make their way up the nape of his neck and her fingers brushing through his hair.

 

 

Derek growls, letting her know he’s on to her and he’d really, _really_ like to touch now. He knows Stiles understands his growling because she giggles quietly and jerks her hips up in a quick motion and presses her chest to his. Leaning in close and almost exposing her neck to him.

 

 

Her lips ghost his cheek bone before she presses a soft kiss to his temple. The touch of her lips is a shock and Derek is hyper aware of where her _everything_ is touching. Stiles works her body in a smooth wave before she slides back down and rides Derek’s hips like she knows how. Derek’s inner cheek is taking a beating and all he wants to do is _take_ his damn girlfriend to bed.

 

 

Stiles slides her hands out of his hair and works them back down his nape and his shoulders, touching his biceps and meeting his hands down at the sides of his chair. She takes his hands letting them float in her touch when she guides them to her hips. Both she and Derek take in a quick breath. The lust is thick and Derek didn’t realize that he’d been holding his breath when Stiles’ lust and his own flood his nose.

 

 

“ _Fuck,_ ” she whispers as Derek’s hands squeeze her supple hips, following the sweet move of her swaying, Derek never thought he’d love the idea of dry humping, but here he is.

 

 

Derek’s not playing this game anymore, He pulls Stiles closer and he sits up straighter, curving himself over her. He supports her back by holding her too him, his hands pressed at the center of her back. Their lips are an inch away from touching and their breath is already mixing.

 

 

Its something about kissing that makes Derek’s toes curl, something so intense and intimate can make Derek howl at the moon. Stiles lips are soft and plush under his and its sent chills all over Derek’s body. Stiles’ hips come to a soft stop and her arms wrap around Derek’s neck, caging his head in her arms.

 

 

“I thought—You— _Fuck,_ ” she says between presses of kisses and Derek working his way down to her neck where he’ll surely mark her as _his._ So he does, he bites the junction of her neck and Stiles head falls back and a groan escapes her. The sound is breathless and beautiful. So Derek does it again, bites her in the same spot then licks the red wound.

 

 

 

Derek slides his hands up her back, griping her shoulder and pushing her down as he presses his hips against her, she gasps beautifully looking down between them and Derek grins.

 

 

Derek meets her lips with his and as ironic and stupid as it is; fire sparks and burns a sweet twinge of lust. Derek has Stiles wrap her legs around his waist when he stands and walks his way to the kitchen. Its closer, shut up.

 

 

In the kitchen, Derek sees and is grateful that the island is cleared, almost like Stiles was expecting him to come here first. The kiss deepens when Derek sets Stiles on the island and they both dart their tongues into each others’ mouths. Her tongue is soft and taste of apples. Derek rumbles approvingly. Stiles arches to him, she’s panting and pulling away as she untangles her legs and lets her heels fall and thump the ground.

 

 

Derek looks over Stiles and it’s a rush under his skin when she looks back at him and licks her lips in that hungry way. Derek growls and pulls her to him keeping their distance as minimal as possible.

 

 

“I want to lay my kill at your feet,” Derek rumbles, and Stiles shivers under him with a quick intake of air. Derek smirks and slides his hands under her shirt, feeling the cool smooth skin under his fingers. Slowly Derek pulls her shirt over her head and tossed off to the side somewhere.

 

 

Somewhere in that time, between them kissing and touch each other’s bodies, Derek’s shirt and Stiles bra is missing. Derek pulls back as Stiles is laid out on the island her legs holding his hips in place. Derek’s hands trail down softly down her sides and he feels her shiver under his touch. Her hair is a successful mess, the soft whiskey of her eyes is gone and black now. Derek stares at the marble of her skin, enjoying the spotting of red bite marks that are now showing on her skin.

 

 

“ _Fuck,_ Stiles.” Derek groans in a whisper as his hands slide back up and hers meet his half way, she guides him up and to her breast. They aren’t overbearing, but they aren’t small, they fit perfectly in Derek’s hand, filling them beautifully. Stiles arches with a quiet moan, her breast have always been sensitive and Derek’s loved it. Derek squeezes and he sees the desperation in her eyes. She’s done fore-playing, but thinks a taunting thought.

 

 

__

_She started this_ , he tells himself with a smirk. He leans down enough for his lips to touch her torso, he takes another nip at her belly, she squeaks releasing his hands and going for his head, holding him steady. Derek hums and works his nips further down until he’s reached her barely there shorts. She hums and lets her eyes fall shut, it’s a split second but Derek pulls back and watches as Stiles breathing is trying to even out.

 

 

Derek watches as her marble skin reddens and bruises with Derek’s bit marks. Derek see the way her arms are floating like water, sliding all the way back up above her head and gently stretching herself out. Derek see’s the skin erections on her legs, sees the shiver of her pleasure work its way from her finger tips to her toes.

 

 

Derek momentarily feels high, all the blood rushing to his flush cock. Derek gazes down at Stiles thighs and his mouth waters, he licks his lips and slides his hands against the smooth flushed pink skin. Stiles has never looked so perfect thrown against the island like she does know.

 

 

Derek’s wolf rumbles with pride and pleasure, looking at his _Mate,_ supply and ready for him. Derek’s fingers get to the loose hem of her shorts and he tugs. Stiles takes in a sharp breath and her eyes open, she meets his steady gaze. As if moaning in his ear to _take her, claim her._ But no, Derek doesn’t want to _take,_ not yet.

 

 

Derek lets go of her shorts and instead goes to trail his hands up her torso and sliding his own torso in-between and up her legs. Stiles goes to speak but Derek takes her hands in his and kisses her cleavage.

 

 

“I’m not going to _fuck_ you,” he whispers in hot pants against her soft skin. Stiles shivers with a small whimper and Derek meets her eyes, “But I will make _love_ to you.” The air around them goes still and Stiles’ arousal blooms like spring flowers. She nods dumbly at him and Derek smirks.

 

 

Derek’s overcome with the need to be gentle, to love her right, so her that he can not only provide, but he can please. Derek takes her hands and pulls her up, slowly, watching gravity work its gorgeous way with Stiles’ body.

 

 

Derek helps her down off the island and watches as she fidgets to hide her breast. It makes him smile, this is Stiles, this the real her, the one Derek knows. She’s the one that whisper next to him at night when she thinks he’s asleep. She’s the clumsy nerd that walks into his loft with arms full of books, her hair up in a messy bun, her thick ray bands on her face and Derek’s sweat pants. She’s the one that doesn’t take Derek’s shit, she’s the sun on a warm winter day. She’s the full moon on Halloween. She’s _his._

 

 

Derek takes her to the bed, takes her to _their_ bed; where the dim orange morning light glows around her. She stares at it blankly before she looks back at him. Searching his face and his body, a spike in her scent gives away her _not-so-secret_ obsession with Derek’s body.

 

 

Derek leans down towards her, lifts her chin with his finger and gently places a kiss on those familiar cupid’s bow lips. Stiles instantly melts into him, almost losing her balance. Derek guides her falling to the bed where she slides up and away from Derek.

 

 

The comforter, that she chose, is a cloud with her sitting on top of it. She’s provocatively hiding herself from him, her legs close together, her arms wrapped around her bunching up her breast. Derek feels his predator instinct kick him in the stomach, Stiles is now his delicious prey and he’s going to have her.

 

 

Derek crawls his way up to her, caging her with his arms, hovering just above her. Derek connects their foreheads and lets his right hand slip down to her stomach and find the hem of her soft lace panties. Stiles gasps, her legs falling open for him. Derek huffs in amusement, her slides his legs between hers, just to keep them apart. Derek lets his hand slide down the rest of the way, feeling the slick, wet warmth of her lips.

 

Stiles rolls her hips smoothly against his unmoving fingers. Derek shakes his head, looking at her face, Stiles falls back against the pillows with a sweet moan. Derek licks his lips and presses his middle finger against her opening. Stiles is quick to push against him, Derek almost loves how receptive she is.  Derek is slowly working her through her panties when he hears the loft door slide and rattle loudly. Stiles squeaks and pushes Derek off and away from her, she rolls herself under the sheets and Derek prays, _prays,_ that someone is dead.

 

 

Derek lets Stiles hideaway over on her side of the bed by the large window wall. Derek sits protectively on his side staring at no other then, Peter.

 

 

“I’ll kill you.” Derek threatens; Peter throws his head back in a mock laugh and smiles at Derek.

 

 

“If you wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Wouldn’t I, Nephew?” Peter says in his creepily charming way. Peter takes the two steps in then stops. His eyes open wide and a smile appears on his lips, “I _smell_ that I’ve interrupted something, Didn’t I?” He chuckles. Derek rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

 

“What.” Derek growls, “What do you want?” He meets Peter’s eyes and Peter is simply smiling and rocking on his feet.

 

 

“I and the boys wanted to stop by and have breakfast, but we—,” Peter is inturpeted when Scott and Isaac tumble in with a flurry of words.

 

 

“We told him not too!” the both shout, they look at each other then the floor. Isaac looks up to meet Derek’s eyes and Derek feels annoyed, he knows the wolves can smell it so when Isaac starts talking Derek just sits and fumes. He’d hate to think about how Stiles is feeling right now. Though she’s being awfully quiet.

 

 

“You see, I told Peter to go home last night and it took _hours,_ Derek. But this morning Scott called and told me that Peter wanted breakfast and that meant that he’d come here. So uh, we, well, we sort of but not really tried to stop—.” He’s intrupeted when Stiles sits up with a sheet held to her chest, Derek growls over at Peter as he tries to keep her hidden. Peter hold his hands up in surrender while Scott and Isaac stare at the shoes.

 

 

“I wanted to have sex with you and they knew it!” she shouts, “I planned it out and told all of them to stay away, Damn werewolves and their nosiness. God forbid that I want to have alone time with my fucking boyfriend, who by the way is drop dead gorgeous. And to top it off it was great and I was doing an awesome job, but no here we are and hour later with me half naked and you three—,” Derek kisses her, kisses her because he wants her to know that he loves her and that he appreciates all of this. Leaving her breathless Derek glares over his shoulders at the others.

 

 

Scott and Isaac pinch their face and each grab Peter’s shoulders, dragging him away. Peter laughs and waves as they leave. Once the door is shut Derek looks back at Stiles and offers a small smirk.

 

 

“Oh no, nope, I’m—no, the mood has been tarnished and I feel stupid. I even took those stupid lap dance classes Lydia goes to, for like a week. I bought those damn heels with Allison and—.” Derek kisses her again, laying them both down and holding her in his arms.

 

 

“You’re beautiful, Stiles. Gorgeous.” Derek says, pulling away from her lips. “Whether you’re in my sweat pants and sweat shirt, or you’re ripped jeans and avengers t-shirts.” Stiles stares back him in a small glare before she rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

 

“You’re going to give me a cavity,” she smiles at him after giving up her glare. Derek huffs and kisses the tip of her nose.

 

 

“I’ll give you a nice garden squirrel tomorrow.” Derek says teasingly, Stiles slaps his bicep with a squeak before she wiggles in his hold and settles.

 

 

“Caveman,” She whispers.

 

 

“Werewolf,” he amends. He feels her giggle quietly before she sighs and falls asleep. Derek feels a small loss in his stomach, but she’s here with him, and he doesn’t know how long she’ll want to be here, but as long as he has her, he’ll always have a chance to please his mate. So they both drifted into a hazy sleep as the sun rose for their morning.


End file.
